A Mate for Lu - Amy Bellows Page 0,57

reveals yet. They each chose dresses to match Mary’s. They spin, and Mary claps. “Mogan and Paka fancy!”

Jesse wanders into our bedroom last. Their tux is the same cream as Lu, with black lapels and dress shoes like mine. Their hair is sticking up a little bit in the back, but they’re standing tall with a smile on their face.

I wish Allen could be here to see this.

“Are you ready?” I ask.

They take in a deep breath. “Yeah. I think so.”

Lu walks over to his nightstand and opens the top drawer to pull out a small tin. He takes off the lid to reveal the traditional paint penguin shifters have been using for centuries. On the right side of the tin, there’s blue paint, the color of a man. On the left side is yellow, the color of an omega.

I have my own tin of blue and white. I rub the colors on my neck and wrists every time I go to a gender reveal party. The paint is more of a stain, and after it dries, it doesn’t rub off. My neck and wrists will remain those colors for weeks after a gender reveal.

The color is supposed to sink into our skin over the course of our lifetime, so when we meet the Eternal Ice in our penguin forms, which don’t display any gender, the Ice will know what we are.

“Let’s go into the bathroom,” Lu says, setting down the tin to put on his paint apron and tie it in the back.

Lu and Jesse walk into the master bathroom, and the other kids sit just outside the door to watch. On the day of a gender reveal, a professional artist is normally hired to paint intricate patterns all over the neck and wrists of the child who is about to receive their adult name. We’ve been using the same patterns for centuries. If done correctly, the patterns make it look like the colors are bursting forth—unstoppable and eternal.

Jesse asked Lu if he’d paint the patterns. Lu readily agreed, even though it took him a long time to learn the patterns. There are papers all over the dining room with drying blue and yellow paint.

Jesse hoists themself up onto the counter to sit while Lu works. They push back their sleeves and open their collar wider, lifting their chin and extending their wrists.

“It’s okay. You can relax.” Lu dips a small paint brush into the paint.

He begins to hum a haunting, slow melody. I’ve heard the song before. He often hums while he paints. Mary tries to hum along too, although her pitch is a lot more haphazard. The swirls and lines on Jesse’s wrist almost glow as Lu works, the tenor of his song gaining a richness I’ve never noticed before.

Jesse gasps and withdraws his wrist.

“What’s wrong?” Lu asks.

“It hurts.”

Lu narrows his eyes. “The paint?”

“Your… your song.”

Lu steps back. “How so?”

Jesse points to their lower abdomen.

“Painting your wrist makes your stomach hurt?”

Jesse’s shoulders tense. “Not my stomach exactly. What is that song you were singing?”

“It’s just a simple binding song. After a welder infuses metal with magic, they have to sing a binding song to fuse all of the different songs they’ve added to the metal together. It harmonizes the magic, and ensures that it will function as a whole. But the song has no power without magic metal. We also sing it as a lullaby to our children. It’s often the first song we learn.”

Jesse thinks about that for a minute. “Can we… talk in private? With you and Lu?”

I turn to Morgan and Parker. “Will you take Mary in the other room?” I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s Jesse’s day.

Morgan and Parker whine and roll their eyes, but they do as they’re told.

“Will you try it again?” Jesse asks Lu.

Lu shakes his head. “If I hurt you…”

“Please. I’m curious about something.”

Lu dips his paintbrush and hums the binding song from before. This time there’s no denying that the paint glows the moment it reaches Jesse’s skin. They grit their teeth, but they don’t ask Lu to stop. Lu’s focus is on the patterns he’s creating on Jesse’s skin. It’s almost as if he’s in a trance.

Jesse hisses, their face twisting in pain. I’m not sure why I don’t stop it. I should. My child is hurting. But as sweat sheens Jesse’s face, this feels necessary. It feels right.

Lu continues his song, working slowly but surely, covering Jesse’s wrists with the paint. Then he moves